ADAM'S JOURNEY OF MEMORIES
by Peejy
Summary: Adam suffers a debilitating injury and has to deal with a doctor not of his choosing.
1. Chapter 1

**ADAM'S JOURNEY OF MEMORIES**

Hoss Cartwright bent over his older brother's limp body and pressed a bandana to the wounded man's head. The body seemed lifeless although a faint heartbeat was present.

"Joe!" Hoss shouted. "Adam's hurt! Real bad!"

Joe jumped down from the fence and raced to the center of the corral. Oblivious to the men around him who were scurrying about, Joe reached Hoss's side. Kneeling beside Adam's inert body, Joe noticed the blood streaming from his horrific head wound and was also aware of the sounds of labored breathing.

"Sounds like he's got some broken ribs," Joe said softly. "Can you stop the bleeding from his head?"

"I'm tryin'," Hoss responded. "But the gash is deep and just keeps on pourin' blood no matter what I do."

"I'm going to town to get Doc Martin!" shouted Joe as he raced across the corral and jumped on Cochise's back.

"Hurry!" Hoss shouted back. Then he picked up Adam's limp body and carried it into the house, climbed the stairs two at a time, and laid his brother gently on the bed. Quickly he soaked a towel in the basin of water on the stand under the mirror and applied the wet towel to the torn skin in Adam's hairline, but the blood still flowed and soaked the towel.

Hoss was scared. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop the bleeding or get his brother to wake up.

Hop Sing bounded into the room, looked at Adam and then disappeared again. On his return, he carried a large bowl of something that Hoss couldn't identify and began to apply the unknown concoction to Adam's head.

"Hop Sing, what is that stuff?" Hoss made a face at the smell.

"Old Chinese poultice to stop bleeding," Hop Sing answered. Sure enough, after a few minutes, the bleeding stopped. Hop Sing silently left the room, taking the bowl with him. His mind was full of Oriental herb cures and he, too, was aware that Adam probably had broken some ribs.

Adam's normally-tanned face was ashen. He didn't move. He didn't wake up. Hoss began removing Adam's chaps, belt, boots, socks, britches and shirt and, when that was done, he knew he was right about the broken ribs. Already, a large area on Adam's side was turning dark blue. Gingerly, Hoss touched the large bruise, his experienced fingers finding at least three places that surely meant broken ribs. Adam moaned but couldn't be awakened. Pulling the covers down from under the limp body, Hoss gently slid his big brother between the cool sheets and pulled them up over Adam's shoulders. Relieved to see that the bleeding had stopped, Hoss pulled a chair close to the bed and waited for Joe's arrival with Doc Martin. Ben was attending an early morning, supposedly short meeting, of the Cattlemen's Association in Placerville; Hoss prayed that the meeting would, indeed, be short and that his Pa was on the way home right now. Placerville was not that far away.

Hop Sing reappeared with yet another larger bowl, steam rising from the towels that were soaking in it. Hoss didn't even bother to question the family cook. He just watched. Carefully, Hop Sing pulled the covers back to observe the bruises, nodded to himself, and put the towels across Adam's ribs.

"This velly good for bruising and breathing," he said to Hoss. "Cover Mistah Adam up and keep him warm. I in kitchen warming more towels."

Hoss once again pulled the covers up over Adam's shoulders. Adam didn't move. Despite Hoss's pleading, Adam didn't open his eyes. He wheezed with each breath.

Hop Sing made several more trips with the bowl and towels. He also had a cup of steaming liquid that he spooned to Adam's lips, allowing a small amount to dribble into Adam's mouth, encouraged by the fact that Adam could swallow. He kept up the spooning process until the contents of the cup were gone.

"Hop Sing, do you know what you're doin'?" Hoss was worried.

"Hop Sing velly smart. Herbs in broth good for bleeding inside. You see." Again, Hop Sing left the room, leaving Hoss to wonder if Adam was dying and if Hop Sing's potions might be speeding him along toward death. There had been only a few times in Hoss's life when he felt completely helpless and this was one of those times.

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After what seemed like an eternity, Hoss was aware of the pounding of booted feet on the stairs. Relieved, he watched Doc Martin enter the room with his black bag. Little Joe was right behind him, followed by Hop Sing with a bowlful of cool water and wet towels. Ignoring Hoss, Doc Martin first looked at Adam's head – removing the clotted poultice and seeing that the bleeding had stopped.

"Who put the poultice on?" he asked.

"Hop Sing," answered Hoss.

"Good job." That was all Doc Martin said. Hop Sing nodded solemnly. The Chinese had used spider webs and honey for centuries.

Pulling back the covers and removing the towels that Hop Sing had applied to Adam's chest, Doc Martin nodded his head thoughtfully. He could smell the oil from castor beans (said to contain healing properties) and from melted horehound candy (said to promote better breathing). Horehound candy was something the doctor often gave patients if they had bad coughs or chest colds or stuffy noses.

"More of Hop Sing's work?"

"Yessir," Hoss answered.

"Hop Sing, I need some cold towels." Doc Martin was usually quite talkative but he was very succinct now.

Hop Sing, very knowledgeable, handed over the bowl with the towels. Doc Martin allowed himself a small smile. "You should be a doctor, Hop Sing. You do good work."

Hop Sing nodded again. "I give Mistah Adam broth of bayberry bark, beet root, ginseng, willow bark and red clover."

Doc Martin had heard of these things. Bayberry bark was said to prevent hemorrhages; beet root was purported to clean the liver and the spleen; ginseng was used to promote energy; willow bark was an effective pain reliever; red clover had often been used as a blood purifier. The Indians commonly used these herbs for healing. Also, the pioneers on the wagon trains had used the same herbal remedies for the same reasons.

Doc Martin covered Adam's bruised ribs with the cold towels, covered him up again, and turned his attention back to Adam's head.

"This wound needs some stitches," the doctor said, reaching for his bag. As he sewed up the deep cut, Hoss and Little Joe watched and talked to each other.

"Where's Pa?" Hoss asked.

"On his way back from that meeting in Placerville," came the answer. "I told Roy what happened. He promised to tell Pa as soon as he got back."

"That dadburned jughead!" Hoss muttered, referring to the wild mustang which Adam had been trying to break. "Ain't nobody been able to break him for over three days now. Adam jist had to try one more time. I shoulda stopped him."

"Hoss," Little Joe said gently, "Adam was bound and determined to break that horse. You know how he is when he sees a good challenge. Nobody could stop him from trying again. Nobody could've known that this would happen. Adam doesn't get thrown many times, much less stomped on. At least the guys got to that horse before it did any more damage."

Joe looked over at the doctor who had finished with the last of the stitches and was wrapping Adam's head in a gauze bandage. The job being finished, the doctor turned to the two brothers. "Has he spoken at all?"

"Nope," Hoss answered. "He's groaned some but he ain't been awake to say nothin'."

Doc Martin began a careful examination of Adam's arms and legs, deliberately trying to inflict some pain to see if he could elicit any response from his patient. Adam groaned as his feet and toes were roughly pinched; involuntary movements caused his legs to twitch and flex. The same things happened with his fingers and arms.

"Doc!" shouted Joe. "Stop hurting him!"

Turning ruefully to look at Joe, Doc Martin shook his head. "It's gotta be done, Little Joe. I need to know if he has feeling in his feet and fingers. It's a good thing to see that he _does_ have feeling and tries to move away. That tells me that his back isn't broken. The fact that he groans tells me that his vocal chords work. It's an excellent sign that he is breathing on his own and there is no damage to the part of the spinal chord that controls voluntary and involuntary responses."

"Then why don't he wake up?"

"Hoss, he has a severe concussion. He might not wake up right away. Hop Sing's poultice stopped the bleeding on the outside, but I can't be sure that there isn't still some bleeding _inside_ the skull. Give it some time." Doc washed his hands in the basin, almost knocking it to the floor, as a startled as Ben strode through the door.

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While Ben sat by his eldest son's bedside, Doc Martin told him the same things that he had told Hoss and Little Joe. Then the two brothers recounted how Adam had been adamant about trying for the fourth time to break the roan mustang, how Adam had been thrown and then stomped on by the angry horse before any of the hands had been able to stop the animal. Ben smoothed Adam's hair back gently, a frown creasing his sad face.

Closing his medical bag, Doc spoke to Ben. "I'll be back later to check on Adam. I'll leave some pills if he starts to run a fever. Crush them and put them in some chamomile tea. Hop Sing says that Adam has no trouble swallowing little sips of liquid. And keep giving him liquids – any kind – beef broth or chicken broth or water so he doesn't dehydrate."

As he turned to leave the room, Ben reluctantly left Adam's side and walked downstairs with the doctor.

"How bad is it?" Ben got right to the point.

"Adam's a strong man. His ribs will heal and so will that hard head of his. Unless there are unforeseen complications, he'll recover just fine."

And Adam's ribs did heal, as did the wound on his head. But there was an "unforeseen complication."

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Four days passed – long days in which Adam remained unconscious. Doc Martin had visited the Ponderosa every day and continued to say the same thing: "Adam's brain has become swollen and needs time to heal. Be patient. Keep the fluids going and tell Hop Sing to start adding some honey to the glasses of water. Honey is a good source of sugar and will help promote some energy."

Ben ran his fingers through his gray hair. "Hop Sing is still giving him all those roots and herbs. Should he stop?"

Doc Martin smiled. "Indians have been using roots and herbs for centuries. None of them will hurt Adam, and they may be helping. But don't stop the beef and chicken broths – both are excellent for medicinal purposes. Although he has had some fever, Adam is showing good signs of healing in his ribs; he also is responding better to pain stimuli. There is no sign that a lung has been punctured – his breathing has stopped sounding so raspy and labored. I'll be back later on this afternoon to check him again."

Climbing into his buggy, the doctor waved and drove away. Ben turned to look into the worried faces of Hoss, Little Joe and Hop Sing. All they could do was follow the doc's orders and wait.

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Ten days later, through a foggy mist, Adam heard voices. Quickly he learned that sitting up wasn't a very good idea – his head banged and throbbed, and there was a dull burning in his chest. He quickly put his head back down on the pillow, reached up and felt the bandages around his head. Lowering his hands to his chest, he felt bandages around his ribs also. He moved his legs and shifted to a more comfortable position in bed. Hearing footsteps on the stairs, he turned his face toward the door and saw a man entering the room. The man had gray hair, broad shoulders and, suddenly, a big smile lit up his face.

"Welcome back!" the man said.

"Thanks," Adam croaked. "Where am I and who are you?"

Confusion crossed the gray-haired man's face. "Son, it's _me_. Pa."

Now _Adam_ was confused. He had never seen this man's face before.

"Where am I?" Adam croaked again.

"At home, son. In your room." The man drew the chair closer and sat down.

" _My_ room?" Adam echoed. He looked around and saw shelves full of books and papers. There was a guitar sitting in a chair by a large window. Nothing looked familiar to him.

The gray-haired man rose from the chair, went to the door, and called out unfamiliar names. There were heavy footsteps and into the room came two more men. One was a giant of a man, tall and broad-shouldered with blue eyes; the other seemed younger, was lithe but muscular.

"Hey, Adam!" grinned the giant. "I shore am glad to see you awake. I thought you was gonna sleep forever!"

The younger man spoke. "If you're trying to get out of spring round-up, this will probably do it."

Adam's face was almost frightened. "Who are you?"

The gray-haired man took Adam's hand. "These are your brothers, Adam. Hoss and Little Joe. Don't you remember?"

Into the room rushed an Oriental man, bearing a cup of steaming liquid. "Here, Mistah Adam. Drink this. It help bring back strength."

Adam sipped the broth which soothed his raspy throat. "Who are you?"

The cook looked highly insulted. "Hop Sing. Chief cook on the Ponderosa! Who you _think_ I am?"

Adam rubbed his head. "I don't know. I've never seen any of you before in my life."

Without taking his eyes from his son's face, Ben said quietly to Little Joe, "Get Doc Martin. And fast!"

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Having completed Adam's in-depth examination and the removal of the head stitches, Doc Martin closed his medical bag. "Get lots of rest and let those ribs heal," he said. "Your head wound is healing nicely, but here are some powders to take if you have trouble with headaches. I'll stop in as often as I can to check on your progress. And it's time for you to start eating real food – your body and your mind need extra nutrition right now."

He left a bewildered Adam and went downstairs. Ben, Hoss, Little Joe and Hop Sing got quickly to their feet. Each face wore a worried expression.

"We need to talk," said the doctor. "Let's sit down and discuss what's going on with Adam."

Everybody sat. The only sound was that of Hop Sing pouring a steaming mug of coffee for the doctor.

"You know that Adam suffered a concussion – we've discussed that already. Physically, his ribs are mending nicely and we can be thankful that his lung wasn't punctured. His head wound will leave a scar, but that will be hidden by his hair." The doctor sipped his coffee and leaned back wearily. "The problem right now is that Adam has a case of total amnesia. He didn't know who I was at all and he doesn't recognize any of you. He has no idea that the woman in the picture by his bed is his own mother. I hope you don't mind, but I told him who she was before I left his room. I wanted to give him some feeling of family. He doesn't know about Inger or Marie yet."

Hoss's blue eyes were steady. "I'm not so shore as I know what this 'amnesia' is. Explain it to me where I kin understand."

Smiling, Doc Martin spoke. "Amnesia, from what we know, is totally mentally-related. Apparently it can come from a great mental shock of some kind or it can be the result of some kind of physical trauma. In Adam's case, we know he was thrown from a horse and was trampled, so that tells me that his case of amnesia is due to physical trauma. My guess is that his brain swelled and hasn't returned to normal yet. Amnesia is like a door closing on a few yesterdays or, in Adam's case, the door has closed on his entire life. He has no idea who he is or who any of you are."

Ben leaned forward. "How long will this 'amnesia' last?"

Shrugging his shoulders, the doctor sipped his coffee. "Ben, we just don't know that much about the mind yet. There are new doctors who specialize in studying the brain and I have read about them and their work in my newest medical journals. Apparently, for some people, memories return in days. Or weeks. Or sometimes not at all."

The silence was overwhelming. Ben rubbed his forehead; Hoss looked down at the floor.

"So there's nothing we can do?" Little Joe asked.

"Yes, there are some things you can do," the doctor answered. "You can treat Adam like you always have. Be supportive of him. But don't push him in any way to try to _make_ him remember. Let his memory come back naturally in its own time. Let him roam around wherever he wants to. Let him live his life normally while his body is healing. He's very confused and frightened right now, and the stress he's putting on himself to remember things is not helping him. The more natural each of you acts, the more relaxed he might become. That 'closed door' may open sooner than we can hope."

Heads nodded in understanding.

"I'd like to send a wire to a doctor in San Francisco. He specializes in something called 'psychiatry' which is basically the study of the brain, how it works and why it works. He may be of great help in Adam's situation. Or we can wait and see if Adam's memory returns quickly. I'll do whatever you want me to do. I don't mean to sound negative, but Adam's total memory loss isn't a good sign. And he's quite upset – understandably so."

"What would you do if this were your son?"

"Ben, if this were my son, I would see if Dr. Montrose would take on this case. I'd try to get any help I could from someone who is knowledgeable in these matters."

Little Joe leaned forward. "Will Adam have to go to San Francisco?"

Doc Martin shook his head. "I don't know, Little Joe. My own personal opinion is that Adam is better off here in his own home with things that may cause him to remember more quickly. But I'll ask and see if you all agree on sending the wire."

Ben didn't hesitate. And neither did his sons or Hop Sing. "Send the wire immediately. The worst thing that could happen is that Adam will regain his memory and we'll have to send another wire canceling any plans that are made."

Rising from his chair, Doc Martin smiled. "I'll send the wire immediately when I get back to town. And I'll drop by tomorrow to check again on Adam. Maybe we'll hear from Dr. Montrose by then."

Amid a chorus of "thank you's," Doc Martin made his exit and climbed into his buggy. His biggest fear was that Adam had sustained irreparable brain damage – but he couldn't bring himself to tell Ben of his feelings. And, though the hour was late upon his arrival in Virginia City, the kind doctor hurried into the telegraph office to send a most important wire to San Francisco.


	2. Chapter 2

While the Cartwrights were eating supper the very next evening, Doc Martin returned with a telegram tucked safely in his pocket. Hop Sing greeted him at the door and ushered him in.

Ben rose from his chair and – always the courteous host – asked if the doctor would like to eat. With a nod, the doctor looked grateful and sat down.

"Where's Adam?" he asked, looking around and finding the eldest Cartwright son absent from the table. "I told him to start eating regular food. I assumed he would be eating at the family table."

Hoss sighed. "He won't come down t' eat. Says he'd ruther eat in his room 'cause it's better than trying t' eat with complete strangers."

Doc Martin accepted a plate from Hop Sing and helped himself to the pork roast, potatoes, and green beans. "I was afraid of that. I've been catching up on some reading today - articles in the medical journals that have to do with brains and how they work. Good reading, and I learned a lot. Apparently, Adam is acting as expected. He feels disassociated because he remembers nothing. He prefers privacy right now."

Ben couldn't stand the suspense any longer. "Did you hear from Dr. Montrose?"

With a twinkle in his eyes, the doctor pulled the slip of paper from his pocket. "As a matter of fact, that's what brought me here at this hour. Dr. Montrose himself has almost more patients than he can handle."

Little Joe sighed and stared at his plate. Hoss stabbed at his roast.

" _But_!" Continued the doctor. "Dr. Sam Nielsen, an associate in Dr. Montrose's practice, has agreed to take on Adam as a patient. Dr. Nielsen appears to be quite well-qualified, starting with graduating _summa cum laude_ from a most prestigious medical school back East. The list of credits is quite extensive. Here. Read them for yourself." He handed the telegram across the table to Ben who read the credits aloud.

"Quite impressive! When do we leave for San Francisco?" Ben asked with a broad smile.

"You _don't_. Dr. Nielsen is coming _to_ Virginia City! On the noon stage in _three days_. I was so excited that I left that part of the message in my office."

"Coming _here_?" Little Joe could hardly contain his excitement.

"Dadburnit! That's the best news I've heard in days!" Hoss could barely contain his own excitement.

Ben's face lit up like a thousand candles. "Well, of course it's _wonderful_ news. And I hope that Dr. Nielsen will stay here with us for as long as necessary!"

Doc Martin beamed. "I knew you would say that, so I took the liberty of extending the invitation for you. I didn't think you'd mind."

Ben laughed out loud. "Of course I don't mind! Just three more days. And I'll be there to meet the stage when it arrives."

Hop Sing, who had been standing in the shadows, began to cackle and clap his hands with glee. He would see to it that the house was extra-clean and that the guest room was comfortable. Mentally he began making a list of the supplies he would need in town. After all, a doctor from San Francisco would be used to the very best meals in the West!

Upstairs, alone in his room, Adam picked at his meal. He heard the laughter and the loud voices and felt very alone. And afraid. He looked at the picture beside his bed – the picture of his mother – and was grateful that he wouldn't have remembered her anyway. She had died shortly after his birth. Her name was Elizabeth but he only knew that because he had been told by the man whom he was supposed to call "Pa." "Hoss" and "Little Joe" were his brothers. His own name was "Adam". "Hop Sing" was the Chinese cook. They all lived on a big ranch called "The Ponderosa." This was what he had been told. It was the sum total of everything he knew.

Downstairs, when the meal was finished and while walking the doctor outside, Ben asked if he should tell Adam that the doctor would be arriving.

"Definitely! Adam doesn't need any surprises," Doc Martin answered. "I don't need to examine Adam any more. He's healing very quickly physically. But I do want to be with you when you meet the stage. I'm anxious to meet this Dr. Sam Nielsen."

Ben had explained to him that a doctor – a noted specialist in the fairly new field of psychiatry – would be arriving soon. Adam shrugged morosely at the news and showed little interest. He showed little interest in anything. During the following days, he continued to stay in his room. Ben, Hoss, Little Joe and Hop Sing took turns taking his meals to him and trying to make conversation. But Adam had very little to say and his attitude made talking uncomfortable. He had pulled a book from the shelf – a book of poetry – and began reading it. It made him feel at ease.

Not quite knowing how to handle this situation, Ben and his sons – and Hop Sing – let Adam have his privacy. Doc had told them not to push Adam too hard, but nobody knew quite what "too hard" was. They kept their conversations limited to things like the weather, the new calves that had been born, and things that they were doing around the ranch. Adam tried to seem interested but he fooled nobody. And he certainly didn't want to be bothered by a doctor who wanted to find out what was wrong with his brain. He just wanted to be left alone to read.

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Ben and Doc Martin waited at the stage depot. Ben couldn't remember when he had been so nervous, but the doctor kept reassuring him that everything would be "just fine." Ben fidgeted and fretted anyway. Doc Martin kept smiling.

The stage arrived, the driver jumped down, and several people began disembarking. Ben searched their faces, trying to decide which one was Dr. Nielsen and had just about come to the conclusion that the new doctor wasn't on the stage. He watched as Doc Martin approached the stage and was helping an attractive brunette woman navigate the step down. The two talked briefly as they shook hands. Ben was confused. He was even more confused when a grinning Doc Martin approached him, smiling woman in tow, and made an astounding introduction.

"Ben Cartwright, I'd like for you to meet Dr. Sam Nielsen. Dr. Nielsen, meet my good friend, Ben Cartwright, the father of your new patient."

Ben was astonished but managed to shake hands with the woman.

"You're Doctor…..Sam…Nielsen?" he asked lamely.

The woman laughed. Turning to Doc Martin, she scolded, "You didn't tell him, did you?"

Doc Martin let his eyes drift away momentarily. "Uh…No. I don't think I _did_ tell him."

"That seems to be something you failed to mention," Ben muttered, but in a kind way. After all, this woman had come a long way to help his son; he certainly didn't want to be rude.

"Mr. Cartwright," began the woman. "If you had known I was a woman, would you have consented to let me work with your son?"

"Dr. Nielsen, I wish I could tell you that it didn't matter. And I guess it doesn't. I've read your credentials and you are obviously more than qualified. I don't know quite what to say." Ben began fidgeting again.

Turning to Doc Martin, Ben looked him in the eye. "Why didn't you tell me yourself? You obviously knew – probably from that part of the telegram that you 'left' in your office."

"Now, Ben. Dr. Nielsen has a good point. Would you have allowed her to come here if you'd known she was a woman?" Doc Martin was still grinning.

Dr. Nielsen broke into the conversation. "I'd bet dollars to donuts that you've been had, Mr. Cartwright. Obviously, this fine doctor standing here, grinning like a goat eating briars, told you that my name is Sam Nielsen. That's true. But 'Sam' is short for 'Samantha.' I'm a woman, I'm a doctor, and I'm very good at being both." She paused. "But if you're at all uncomfortable with having me work with your son, I'll get back on the stage tomorrow and head back to San Francisco. No hard feelings. It won't be the first time that being a female doctor has been a problem."

Ben liked this woman. There was something very kind about her, even with her being so forthright.

"Dr. Nielsen," he said, "I have no problem with your being a woman doctor. But I don't know if my son will or not. All we can do is see how things work out."

"Please call me 'Sam,'" she said, laughing again. "Calling me Dr. Nielsen sounds so formal. And I agree with you. Let's see how things work out with your son. I believe his name is 'Adam'?"

"Yes, his name is 'Adam'. And I'll try to remember to call you 'Sam' if I can. I've never called a doctor by a first name, so this will be new to me."

"If we're going to try to maintain a family atmosphere, we need to be on a first-name basis. Do you mind if I call you 'Ben'?"

Ben laughed for the first time. "Not at all. But, if I had told you to call me 'Mr. Cartwright', what would you have done?"

A shake of her head with a giggle. "I'd have called you 'Ben' anyway."

Yep, Ben approved of the woman. She had a contagious laugh; she was forthright without being rude. She was attractive and delightfully sassy. But how well would she act in performing as a doctor?

Doc Martin laughed at this woman doctor, but he couldn't go with Ben to the Ponderosa for introductions. Mrs. Elvin was having her first baby, and he needed to be with her right now. Explaining the situation to Ben, Doc Martin shook Sam's hand, then Ben's, climbed into his buggy and drove away.

Gathering Sam's luggage, Ben led the doctor to his buckboard, helped her in, and they were on their way to the Ponderosa.

"Tell me all about Adam," requested Sam. "I need to know as much as I can before I meet him. I need to know what kind of man he is, what he likes, what he doesn't like, his hobbies, his education, his hopes and dreams…"

And, in the time it took to reach the Ponderosa, Sam knew a lot about her patient. Ben was exceedingly good at condensing the needed information.

Sam was ready.

Hearing the buckboard's arrival, Hoss, Little Joe and Hop Sing opened the front door and hurried outside – just in time to see Ben helping a woman down from the high seat.

"Joe, that's a gal!" Hoss muttered.

Joe cocked his head. "It sure is! Maybe she's Dr. Nielsen's nurse?"

Hop Sing shook his head and muttered in Chinese. Then he backed silently into the house.

Taking Sam's elbow, Ben led her to meet the two men.

"Hoss. Joe. I'd like you to meet Dr. Nielsen. Dr. _Sam_ Nielsen. Sam, this is my middle son, Hoss, and my youngest son, Joseph."

Hoss couldn't help it. As he shook the woman's hand, he gawked as he welcomed her and shook her hand a little too long. Joe was more subtle and asked not to be called "Joseph." He couldn't think of anything else to say. Both sons were thinking, " _This_ is the _doctor_?"

Sam's lips twitched slightly as she stifled a laugh. "I don't guess you expected to be invaded by a female, but here I am! And, please, call me 'Sam'. 'Doctor Nielsen' sounds so stuffy and so formal!" She made a face and rolled her eyes.

Her comical expression made Hoss and Little Joe laugh in spite of their surprise at the fact that she was actually a doctor. In an instant, the tension in the air was completely gone. Ben was impressed. She had used the same ploy on him and it had made _him_ feel quite at ease.

Hoss and Little Joe both retrieved the luggage, whispering as they did so.

"How 'bout that? A female doctor." This from Hoss.

"Boy, Adam's gonna hit the roof for sure when he meets her!" This from Little Joe.

Sam and Ben entered the house. Sam's eyes took in everything in quick order.

"What a beautiful home you have, Ben," she said. "Very comfortable, very well-appointed, very welcoming."

Hop Sing appeared, his slanted eyes looking at the visitor curiously and with a wee bit of animosity.

"Oh, I mustn't forget to introduce the most important man on the Ponderosa," Ben said smiling. "This is Hop Sing, the best cook, housekeeper and friend you'll ever find."

Sam surprised Ben completely as she bowed formally, in Chinese tradition, and addressed Hop Sing in his native language.

A broad smile began to spread across Hop Sing's face as Sam spoke. The more she spoke, the broader his smile became as he bowed and then answered her in Chinese.

With glee, Hop Sing turned his eyes to Ben. "Missie Doctor Sam's room all ready. Coffee ready to pour. Sit, please."

Ben chuckled to himself. Hop Sing was always quite formal with women visitors to the Ponderosa until he got to know them well. Sam was working wonders already. Could she work wonders with Adam?

Sam was anxious to meet Adam but knew that manners came first. "Coffee sounds wonderful. I'd love to sit down for a few minutes, Ben, if that's all right with you."

And so they sat and talked. One woman, three Cartwrights, and even one Chinese cook. Meanwhile, the fourth Cartwright remained upstairs, steadfastly reading his book of poetry. Time flew by. Hop Sing excused himself as he headed for the kitchen to prepare the evening meal. Sam hadn't meant to sit for so long, but she truly enjoyed the company of these men. However, the time had come for her to meet Adam.

"I'll make the introductions," Ben announced rising.

"No, Ben. It's better if I meet Adam by myself. He doesn't know that I'm the doctor yet, even though you've told him that a doctor is to arrive. We need to talk about this, just the two of us." Sam looked steadily into Ben's eyes. "Give me a thirty-minute warning before supper is served."

Having been told where Adam's room was located, Sam walked up the stairs alone.

"Oh, Lordy," Hoss moaned.


	3. Chapter 3

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An unwelcoming "Come in" was the response to Sam's knock on Adam's door. And so she entered the room and found Adam, in his bathrobe and slippers, sitting in a chair and reading a book of poetry. He looked up, surprised to see that there was a woman standing in his room. The "man" in him took over as he quickly assessed his visitor: Curly brunette hair with copper highlights, green eyes, a smattering of freckles across her small nose, full lips, taller than average, shapely body. Putting the book down, he rose to his feet and was met with a smile, revealing astonishingly white teeth.

"Hello, Adam," the visitor said. "I'm Doctor Samantha Nielsen." She extended her hand, and Adam found himself reflexively shaking it. His grip was firm; so was hers.

"So. I hear you've come to investigate my brain, Doctor Nielsen," Adam said sarcastically.

"I think the word 'investigate' is a poor choice of words," Sam countered. "I'd prefer to use the word 'nudge' instead."

"As you wish," Adam shrugged and sat back down.

"Do you mind if I sit down too?" asked Sam.

Adam shrugged again and pointed to a chair across the room. Sam's skirts rustled as she moved across the floor and sat down.

"Do you remember anything at all about yourself, your past, your family?"

Adam raised an eyebrow. "You don't beat around the bush, do you?"

"Nope," came the succinct answer.

"No. I don't remember anything," Adam said, a wistfulness in his voice.

"I'd be scared spitless if I had lost _my_ memory," Sam mused. Deliberately.

Adam looked at her and sighed. "I'm not scared." He lied, of course.

"You're a better man than I am…" began Sam, falling back on a quote from a book she'd read.

Without thinking, Adam finished the quote, "…Gunga Din." Then he wondered why he had said that. _How odd._

Sam said nothing. Her eyes and her demeanor gave no sign that Adam had remembered something.

"I don't know why you're here," Adam said brusquely. "I don't need a doctor."

"Maybe not. But I'm here anyway, for the sake of your father and brothers. They're very worried about you. They don't know how to act or what to do."

With sarcasm dripping from every word, Adam responded. "And you're gonna fix me and make me all better. Maybe you have some kind of magic potion for restoring memories?"

Sam's eyebrow shot up to her hairline. "Look, Adam. I don't care if you like me or not. I don't care if you call me 'Sam' which I prefer, or if you call me 'Doctor Sam' or 'Doctor Nielsen' or whatever makes you comfortable. But I worked extremely hard to become a doctor, and I'm a damn _good_ one. I ask nothing from you but that you give me respect. I'll accept nothing less. And I'll do the same for you."

Surprised, Adam spoke. "You don't mince words, do you?"

"Nope."

The conversation was interrupted by a shout from Hoss. "Supper in thirty minutes!" Sam was hungry, and the aroma wafting from the kitchen made her mouth water.

"Ahhh," she sighed happily. "Food! Get dressed and let's go eat!"

"I'm not going downstairs. Somebody will bring my food up. You go ahead and go."

"Absolutely not!" said Sam firmly. "Get dressed and go eat with the rest of the family."

"Family? I don't know them!" Adam snorted.

"Well, I don't either!" stormed Sam. "I've had a very long trip. I'm tired. I'm hungry. I'm supposed to sit at a table with three men I met just a little while ago and make polite conversation all by myself? And, if my nose tells me correctly, there's a Chinese cook who insists on calling me 'Missie Doctor Sam' and who has tried to flambé a dessert and failed miserably.' She paused. "Are you gonna throw me to the lions?"

In spite of himself, Adam gave a lop-sided smile. "It wouldn't be very mannerly, would it?"

"Hardly. Now get dressed. And shave, for God's sake! You look like a bear!"

He couldn't help it. He actually liked this woman.

"You gonna watch me shave and get dressed?" he asked, a gleam in his eyes.

"Shave, yes. Get dressed, no. I'll turn my back. I'm not leaving this room without you!"

"Don't you trust me?

" _No_!" Sam was emphatic.

And while Adam shaved, Sam took her time perusing this man: Dark, curly hair, tanned skin, hazel eyes, cupid's-bow mouth, broad chest and shoulders, long fingers. He was an attractive man, but she wondered if he was aware of it. She watched as Adam pulled a shirt and trousers from the armoire.

"Uh," he said, with another slight grin, "you're supposed to turn your back while I get dressed."

"I did say that, didn't I?"

"Yep."

Dutifully turning her back as she listened to the sounds of clothing coming off, Sam looked at the bookshelves. "What a wonderful collection of books!" She ran her fingers over the spines of several of them. Offhandedly, she asked, "Did you read them all?"

"Yep." Again, Adam answered without thinking. He wondered how he knew that he had read the books when the titles weren't familiar to him. He waited to see if the woman would make a comment, but she didn't. He didn't know that she had taken mental notes of what he said when he wasn't forcing himself to concentrate.

"Okay. I'm decent. You can turn around now."

Sam wasn't expecting what she saw. This man, this Adam Cartwright, wasn't just attractive. He was downright handsome!

They walked downstairs together.

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As Adam and Sam began to cross the floor, nearing the dining room table, Ben whispered, "Just act natural. Let's have a pleasant conversation without pushing Adam to remember anything."

Always the gentleman, whether it was from memory or not, Adam pulled out an empty chair for Sam. He took the seat to her right; Ben was seated to her left. The vegetables were already on the table, and now Hop Sing scurried out bearing a huge platter of expertly-cooked rack of lamb.

As Ben carved the meat, complimenting the cook on a job well done, Adam actually smiled. "Lamb! One of my favorites!"

Hoss, astounded, began, "How did….?" What he had meant to say was, "How did ya know that it's one of yer favorites?"

He felt a kick to the shins under the table, saw Sam bite her tongue slightly, and never finished the sentence.

Sam finished it for him. "How did Hop Sing know that lamb is one of my favorites? One of you must've told him. How thoughtful!"

Conversation was not as tense as Ben had thought it would be. Although Adam had little to say, he seemed to be listening intently to things that pertained to the ranch. He paid special attention when the conversation turned to questions about Sam, her parents (who were now dead), her life as a child and adult, her education, her likes and dislikes, how she worked hard to become a doctor. She had a way with words, turning dreary subjects into funny ones – often making everybody at the table laugh out loud.

The main meal being finished, Hop Sing brought in a somewhat seared dessert. He apologized and said to scrape off the burned parts – the rest would be tasty. He was right. Sam cut her eyes at Adam and they shared a conspiratorial grin.

"Hop Sing," began Sam, speaking in Chinese, "the first time I ever tried to flambé a dessert, I caught my hair on fire. My father threw a bucket of water on my head while my mother ran in circles, shrieking like a banshee. The water filled the dessert tin, and it tipped over, fell on the floor and the whole mushy mess floated across the kitchen. I've never tried to flambé anything since." Hop Sing laughed heartily. Then Sam realized she had been speaking in Chinese and had to re-tell the story in English. Sam laughed at herself easily, and Adam liked the way her freckled nose wrinkled.

And soon, after eating for the first time with the family he didn't remember, Adam realized the experience hadn't been bad at all. The group retired to the great room to sit in front of the fireplace. Ben offered a glass of brandy.

"Do I like brandy?" Adam asked. This was the first time he had asked a question about himself in many days.

Ben handled it well. "Sometimes you do, sometimes you don't."

"I guess this is a time that I _do_."

And everybody had a snifter whether they really wanted to or not. The evening was growing late, and Sam felt bone-weary.

"Please excuse me," she said. "I guess all that good food plus the brandy has made me sleepy. I think I'll just troddle off to bed."

As she stood up, all four Cartwrights rose to their feet. And Hop Sing was at the door to the guest room downstairs.

"This Missie Doctor Sam's room," he said proudly. He had taken great pains to make it as aesthetically-pleasing as possible when he discovered that "the doctor" was a nice lady who spoke Chinese.

"Sleep well," called Ben as Sam made her way into the bedroom. When her door was closed, Ben said softly, "She's quite a woman."

Adam, swirling the last of his brandy in its snifter, answered, "Yes, she _is_."

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Adam rose early the next morning just as the sun was beginning to rise. He felt rested and physically stronger. Looking at his reflection in the mirror as he shaved, he considered the fact that he just knew how to perform this task. Vaguely he wondered if this was a memory or just something that he had done so long that his body remembered all by itself.

He turned his attention to the books on the shelves, running his fingers along the spines and reading the titles and the authors. The complete works of Shakespeare, lots of books of poetry, a book written by Milton… To his surprise, he remembered not only the books and authors' names – he remembered the contents of the books and when he had read them for the first time. With each book he touched, he heard an almost audible _click_ in his mind as a door seemed to open in his memory.

All of a sudden, he was ravenously hungry. It would be too early yet for Hop Sing to be serving _click_ , but he dressed in a hurry and headed downstairs. He planned to go outside and just walk around a bit.

The house was quiet except for the muted sounds of voices in the kitchen. There he found Sam and Hop Sing in deep conversation. Speaking in Chinese. Hop Sing was just beginning to make coffee, and Sam was cracking eggs and adding their contents to a big bowl.

Today, Sam was dressed in jeans and a shirt rolled up to her elbows. And she was barefoot. Adam gave her body an appreciative once-over. He liked what he saw. He had underestimated her yesterday – she definitely had a well-sculptured body with graceful curves and dips in all the right places! Her brunette hair was fastened by a clasp behind her neck. Yesterday it had been piled on top of her head. The morning's light reflected off the copper highlights; errant waves and curls straggled around her face.

"Good morning," chirped Sam, in English. "I hope we didn't wake you. I was hungry and came looking for something to eat. I think I woke Hop Sing, but he denies it." She paused and then laughed. "Put your eyes back in your head, Mister! If my backside could blush, it would!

Caught, Adam looked away. But he wasn't embarrassed in the least. "And good morning to you two. And I'll have you know that I'm just appreciating the beauty of the morning."

Sam snorted and reached for a whisk.

Hop Sing cackled happily as he put the coffee on the stove. "Missie Doctor Sam got eggs for breakfast."

Sam snorted. "I got attacked by the chickens for my trouble, too." She held up her hands showing little red marks from the chicken beaks. "A murderous lot, those creatures. I was lucky to get away with my life!"

"Hop Sing is the only person who can collect eggs without physical harm, "Adam began. c _lick_. His mouth turned up at the corners. "You were lucky to be successful," he added as he reached into the correct cabinet for a cup. _c_ _lick_. The cabinets and shelves were very familiar.

Looking at Sam now. "Where did you learn to speak Chinese?" he asked as he leaned against the doorjamb.

"In San Francisco. I have some friends there who taught me the language. It was almost in self-defense. So many doctors there speak Chinese that I felt like an outsider. I had one strike against me for being a female doctor so I decided that I needed to broaden my language skills to make myself fit in a little better. I speak a little Spanish, a little Italian, some French, and some very bad Chinese."

"She speaky velly good Chinee," interjected Hop Sing.

"Not really," Sam giggled. "Hop Sing asked me how old I was and I told him 'one hundred and twenty seven'."

Hop Sing cackled as he poured fresh coffee into Adam's cup. "She just make small mistake."

Adam laughed. "He asked you your age?" He shook his finger at Hop Sing, who deliberately turned his back and began to slice bacon. "What a rude question."

Then with a devilish grin, he asked, "Well, how old are you?"

"I was only off by one hundred years, Mr. Nosy!" came the retort. "And why are you up at this hour?"

"Kipling. Rudyard Kipling." Adam looked smug. "I remember reading the book. That's why I could finish your quote from yesterday, Gunga Din."

Sam clapped her hands with glee. "That's wonderful, Adam! What a positive sign!"

"That's not all," Adam continued, sipping his coffee. "I remembered every book on the shelves. Titles, authors, contents. I can remember where I was when I was reading each book for the first time, too."

Sam looked at Adam. He had the happy face of a young boy who has just performed a great miracle.

"This is just the beginning," Sam said. "The less you obsess on remembering, the more you will remember. Take last night's supper, for instance. You remembered that lamb is one of your favorite meats. You weren't trying to decide if you liked it or not – you just knew. Your memory will come back slowly at times and in a big rush at times. Just relax and don't obsess if things don't progress as quickly as you'd like."

Adam nodded and smiled. "I think I'll go look around the house and see if anything else comes to mind."

"Well, I'm staying in the kitchen. I want to see how much food it takes to feed four big Cartwrights, one starving female, and one Chinese cook." Sam turned her attention to whisking the eggs.

Adam strolled through the great room and ended up behind a large desk which, he assumed correctly, belonged to the man who was his father. On the desk was a trio of pictures of three beautiful women. One, he already had been told, was his mother. The other two he didn't recognize. He'd ask about them later.

"Later" turned out to be over breakfast. He couldn't wait. And when Ben got through with the condensed version of the women, Adam could fit some parts of the missing puzzle together. Hoss and Little Joe were his half-brothers. Hoss's mother, Inger, the blond woman in the picture, was Swedish, and had died before reaching Nevada. Little Joe's mother, the other woman in the trio of pictures, was from New Orleans and had been responsible for calling her son "Little Joe." But Adam had no memory of either woman, and his face reflected his concern over the lack of remembering.

"Stop trying to force memories, Adam," scolded Sam quietly while Ben was talking about the Spring round-up to his other sons.

Adam sighed. He had been so hopeful that his memory would return in a rush…


	4. Chapter 4

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After breakfast came morning chores. Because of his healing ribs, Adam was exempt from chopping wood and changing wheels on a wagon. While Ben caught up on bookwork, it was Sam's idea that Adam show her around outside. After pulling on her boots, she let him lead her as they both looked around. Adam felt a comfortable familiarity with everything he saw. He was relaxed.

The barn smelled of hay, horses, manure and leather. Each horse had his own stall.

"What beautiful horses!" Sam exclaimed. "Who owns which one?" She was deliberately "leading" Adam into opening his mind without realizing it.

"This Pinto's name is 'Cochise', and he belongs to Little Joe. The big Bay in the next stall belongs to Hoss. Over here is the Buckskin that belongs to Pa. And over here, the Chestnut, is Sport. He's hard to handle but he's mine, and we have an understanding. Don't we, boy?" He patted Sport's nose. _c_ _lick..._ _c_ _lick..._ _c_ _lick..._ _c_ _lick..._

Sam looked at Adam, a smug smile lighting her face. Not only did Adam remember the names of the horses but he referred to Ben as "Pa." That was a first.

Suddenly realizing what he'd said, Adam's face was a mixture of exultation and confusion. "I can remember what the horses' names are but I still don't know who _I_ am."

"Relax, Adam," soothed Sam. "Rome wasn't built in a day, you know." She didn't mention that Adam had said "Pa."

Buoyed by this experience, Adam wanted to go riding. _Now_. He wanted to explore more of the Ponderosa.

"Can you ride?" he asked.

Shrugging, Sam deliberately avoided a direct answer. She could ride like the wind (though she hadn't done so for quite a while) but she hoped to help Adam's memory by letting him teach her a few things. "I'll try anything once. Twice if I like it." She looked around. "But don't you have a horse in a smaller size? These are so…. _big_ …"

Adam couldn't help but laugh at Sam's answer. Confidently he strode over to yet another stall. "Old Betsy is the perfect horse for you."

Sam deliberately looked dubious. She watched while Adam saddled Sport and Old Betsy and knew that he was completely unaware that he was putting the correct saddles and bridles on each horse. She kept these thoughts to herself.

"Ready?" asked Adam, leading Old Betsy up close to Sam.

Bowing her legs out in an exaggerated fashion, Sam gave an unenthusiastic "Yahoo." She feigned difficulty in pulling herself into the saddle and gave Adam a dubious look as he adjusted her stirrups. She watched while Adam swung expertly into his own saddle and then headed out the barn door, looking behind him to make sure that Old Betsy would follow. She did.

Spending a few minutes teaching Sam the basic mechanics of how to keep her heels down in the stirrups, how to hold the reins, how to turn the horse, Sam looked ready. But Old Betsy was backing up and Sam look frightened.

"Stop!" Sam hollered. "Help, Adam! She's backing into the barn!"

Adam chuckled. "You're pulling the reins too tight. Loosen up a little and give her a nudge with your heels. She'll move forward."

Doing as she'd been told, Sam looked triumphant. "I've got the hang of it now. Let's go somewhere!"

Now Adam was confused. He didn't know where to go because he had no memory of the lay of Ponderosa land. To hide his confusion – and his frustration with himself – he suggested that they just follow the well-traveled road. He knew he could find his way back by following that road.

Peeking out the window was Ben. He smiled and then looked wistfully at the picture of Elizabeth. With a sigh, he sat down and returned his attention to the lumber contract he'd been reading.

Hoss, fixing the wagon wheel, hollered, "Have a good ride!"

Joe, splitting wood, called out, "Hurry up and get better, big brother. I'm tired of doing all your chores."

Adam put his hand up in the air to show that he had heard them. He and Sam continued down the road, Sam sliding around in the saddle every now and then.

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Sam was honestly interested in seeing the Ponderosa and she was enjoying the ride and being able to look at the trees and small animals that scampered about. But the view from the main road soon became boring. As she was about to lie, to tell Adam that she was getting saddle-sore and wanted to go back, he stopped and looked around. There was a small trail that appeared to his right. He pinched the bridge of his nose and cocked his head. This was a physical clue, Sam knew, of a person's struggle as a memory tried to come through. She sat quietly until Adam spoke.

"Let's go this way," he said as he neck-reined Sport to the right.

Sam followed. The two riders were surrounded by Ponderosa pines, lush green grass, and beautiful wild flowers. The day was turning into a beautiful afternoon, the sky was blue beyond the tops of the trees. Sam was enjoying this part of the ride, not only for the scenery, but because Adam seemed to be a man with a purpose. Coming through the last of the trees, was a small meadow. And beyond that – the most beautiful thing she had seen in a while. A panoramic view of mountains and tree lines and the shimmering waters of Lake Tahoe!

"This is what Pa saw that made him want to live here. A long time ago. On a search for food when we were part of the wagon train," Adam said softly. "I remember him telling me about it when I was little, and he brought me here to show it to me. I remember it as clear as though it were yesterday!"

Sam said simply, "It's a beautiful view, Adam. I can see for miles and miles. I understand why he wanted to settle around here." She was afraid to say too much, afraid that she might interrupt his memory.

They sat there for a while, sharing a companionable silence. Then Adam looked around. There were several trails going further into the trees. He pinched the bridge of his nose again.

"This way, I think," he said as he chose a trail. It was well-worn and easy to follow, and he nudged Sport into a trot.

Old Betsy was a gentle horse, but her trot was of the "single-foot" variety, and Sam was jounced around until her backside screamed at her.

"Adam! We've got to slow down! Please! I can't stand this pace – I think my teeth are about to fall out from all this bouncing!"

Adam had all but forgotten that anyone was with him. "Sorry," he said. "Not much farther now." He slowed Sport to a walk.

Sam sighed with relief. Even though she was an excellent horsewoman, sitting Old Betsy's trot was a nightmare.

Suddenly, the two riders came into a huge clearing. Adam pinched the bridge of his nose again and dismounted. Approaching Sam, he said, "This is the place. Let's walk a little and let the horses graze."

"Well," began Sam, "for God's sake, help me get off this creature!" Adam laughed as he helped the woman down. And he laughed again as Sam muttered, "The Ponderosa is full of murderous creatures. The chickens tried to kill me first and, failing that, Old Betsy has tried to finish the job."

Adam took her farther into the clearing where the wildflowers were just beginning to bloom. The deep red of Indian Paintbrush could be seen everywhere. It was a beautiful setting.

Sam stepped in a woodchuck hole and almost fell. Adam caught her before she hit the ground, his hand grazing the soft curve of a breast. He gave her a lop-sided grin, one that she would grow to love.

"Adam, stop _groping_ me, will you?"

"Lady, if I was even _trying_ to grope you, you'd _know_ it!" He said it with a twinkle in his eyes, but Sam knew that he was serious.

This was a different Adam than the one she knew. More confident. More in control. And he was now walking purposefully to a clover-strewn spot. Reaching it, he turned in a slow circle, a faraway look in his eyes. Another lop-sided grin.

"You gonna let me in on the joke?" Sam asked. Adam was obviously remembering something.

"Suellen Terry."

"Sue who?"

"A girl I used to go out with. We had a picnic here once…" Adam hid a smirk behind his hand.

"Well, tell me about it," Sam pushed. Adam obviously remembered something quite interesting.

"I remember the day," he said, thinking and rubbing his cheek with his hand, still smirking. "I remember the food, the conversation, the girl, what she wore. But that's all I'll tell you."

Sam ballooned out her cheeks. She had a mental image of two naked bodies rolling in the clover – and she felt a pang of jealousy. She was surprised at herself and had to remind herself that Adam was her patient. Nothing more.

"Sounds quite personal," she managed to say.

"Quite," came the answer, the smirk still there.

"Do you still go out with this girl?"

"No," Adam answered flatly. "She got murdered." The smirk disappeared. "I got arrested but the killer was finally found. I had to kill the man in self-defense."

Trying to be professional, Sam spoke. "Adam, the main thing is that you're remembering. Names. Faces. Places. Relationships. The good and the bad. I'm sorry for your loss and I'm sorry that you had to kill a man, but these things are woven into the fabric of who you are. You're doing very well at putting pieces of the puzzle together."

Stepping close to Sam, Adam looked into her green eyes. "You give me encouragement. Do you realize how important that is?"

Sam tingled all over. She hoped that he would kiss her – and then she prayed he _wouldn't_. He didn't. Just at that moment, her stomach made an enormous growling sound, and the two people laughed.

"Lunch time," said Adam. "Let's head back and feed that noisy stomach."

"Can we please not go at a trot again?" begged Sam. "I don't think my backside can take any more punishment."

Adam chuckled. "We have to walk on this trail anyway. It's too full of potholes to go any faster."

Sam's legs had gotten stiff already. She hadn't ridden a horse in a while and pretending to slip and slide, together with Old Betsy's uneven trot, had tightened her muscles. She couldn't get her foot in the stirrup securely enough to raise her up to throw her right leg over the saddle.

"Dammit," she muttered.

Adam was at her side. "Need some help?"

Sighing, Sam nodded her head. Shoving her left foot into the stirrup, she rose into the air easily. Because Adam had a firm grip on her backside.

" _Adam_!" Sam hissed.

Adam backed away and spread his arms out wide. "I wasn't groping, Gunga Din. I just gave you a little boost." He looked so innocent. "And it isn't polite for a lady to swear."

Sam rolled her eyes. She was speechless because of the emotions whirling around her head and her body. She had felt jealousy because Adam had been with another woman (she knew intellectually that he had probably been with many women, but somehow she didn't want to hear about it); she had tingled at the nearness of this man; and she actually had liked the feel of his hand on her breast and her backside.

When she found her voice, she was curt. "Do you have memory enough to find your way back home?"

Adam looked at her strangely. "Yes, I do."

Softening her voice, Sam said, "Well, don't get too far ahead of me. I don't want to be lost _and_ hungry."

"I won't lose you, Gunga Din," Adam replied, his voice equally gentle.

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By the time Adam and Sam arrived at the Ponderosa, both riders were hungry. Helping Sam dismount, Adam remarked that Hoss and Joe weren't yet home because their horses weren't tied up outside.

"Hoss won't miss a meal," Adam grinned. _c_ _lick_ "Hop Sing must've packed a lunch for him and Joe to take while they're out mending fences."

Ben was still sitting at his desk when Adam and Sam entered the house. Adam's face was animated. "Pa!"

Ben looked up quickly. Adam hadn't called him "Pa" since the accident. He never called Ben by any name at all.

Sam stayed in the background to watch how this scene would play out.

"I remember you," Adam said in a gush. "Well, I remember that you're my Pa. I don't remember anything about you yet. But I found a trail that took us to the Tahoe overlook. And I remembered that you took me there when I was little and told me that this was the land where we would put down our roots." Adam stopped to catch his breath.

Ben rose so abruptly that a sheaf of papers fell on the floor. Quickly he was at Adam's side, putting his arm around Adam's shoulder.

"That's wonderful, son. Just wonderful!"

The love and the happiness in Ben's eyes were unmistakable. Sam smiled to herself. How heartwarming this scene was.

"Pa, do you remember a girl named Suellen Terry?"

A slight frown creased Ben's face. "I do. What about her?" It was obvious to Sam that Ben hadn't cared much for this particular girl. Sam was glad.

"I remembered her. I remembered everything about her. And I also know that she got killed by the sheriff and that I killed the sheriff in self-defense."

Ben's face relaxed. "You did what you had to do under the circumstances, son." Then, "Did you remember anything else?"

"There were some trails that I thought looked familiar – trails that I want to explore at a later time. Right now, I'm famished." Both Adam and Ben realized that Sam was standing at a bit of a distance, and she was smiling. Her freckled nose was wrinkling.

"Well, Sam and I _both_ are hungry," Adam amended. "I'm going to ask Hop Sing to shake a leg and put some sandwiches on the table." He turned and hurried toward the kitchen.

Sam approached Ben and spoke quickly. "Doors are beginning to open in Adam's mind. If you have anything at all around the house, even things that you don't think are important, put them out where Adam can see them. Some old things, some new things, anything you think might be important. And don't tell him too much information – he needs to know that he remembers, not that he knows details because he's been told. Let Hoss and Little Joe know this also."

Ben nodded as Adam burst into the room and saw that the two were in deep conversation. "What are you two concocting?"

"Absolutely nothing," Sam interjected quickly. "I was telling Ben about Old Betsy and that awful trot. When we go riding again, Adam, I want a horse that is skinnier and who has the common decency to move without jarring my insides into mush."

"Oh," replied Adam, his mind on his stomach. "Hop Sing is bringing out food. Let's eat!"

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Ben couldn't stop smiling and he seemed more relaxed than he had been in almost two weeks. Sam could see the hope in his eyes – and in Adam's. The conversation flowed easily among the three as they ate – this was the first meal without some kind of tension.

Hop Sing answered a knock at the door and found Doc Martin standing there. The cook ushered the doctor in, and Adam was the first to rise when their eyes met. _C_ _lick._

"Hello, Doc!" Adam put out his hand and clasped the surprised doctor's hand.

"You remember me?" Doc Martin asked.

"I recognized you when you walked in the door. It's rather startling but my memory seems to kick in at strange times. Come in and let's talk."

Hop Sing brought out more sandwiches, and Doc Martin sat down, shaking his head as he looked at Sam. "Apparently you've been a big help, but I'd like to hear how Adam is recovering so fast. Oh, and by the way, I brought your mail in from town. Everybody seems to be asking how you are; now I can tell them that you're progressing quite well."

Adam looked at Sam. Her face was relaxed, and her nose wrinkled slightly as she smiled. Adam was becoming an expert at looking at Sam when she didn't know it, and he was beginning to feel a special bond with this woman. She was patient at times, sassy at times, and very easy to talk to. She never pushed him, was understanding when he couldn't remember things, and highly supportive when he did remember things. Sam was a very special lady.

Sam now answered Doc Martin. "I'm not doing anything. Adam is just relaxing and letting memories wash over him. Let him tell you about what he's learned so far." She rose from the table. "I need to write some things down – I'm documenting Adam's progress. I'm learning just as much as he is."

Doc Martin handed her a sheaf of letters. A shadow crossed Sam's face as she looked at the envelopes – and Adam, always the scrutinizer – noticed the slight frown.

"Not bad news, I hope," he said softly.

"No," was all Sam said. Entering her bedroom quickly, she gathered up a pad of paper, a pencil, and some envelopes. Exiting her room, she announced that she'd be outside. Adam saw her drop a letter but said nothing; it slid, unnoticed, under the table by the door.

Doc Martin stayed for quite a while and Ben listened to the doctor and Adam's conversation, adding a few things here and there. Though Adam's memories of the doctor weren't complete, his hopes grew higher.

When Doc Martin was ready to leave, both Ben and Adam walked him to the door. Adam leaned down quickly to retrieve the letter that Sam had dropped but hid it in his back pocket. Though Ben wanted to talk to his eldest son, Adam preferred to go outside and see what Sam was doing.

She was stretched out in a chair in the sunshine and her head lolled gently to the side. She was asleep. Adam watched her, feeling a tingling sensation at the back of his neck. Sam had taken off her boots and stretched her long legs out, an action that pulled her jeans tight across her belly. There was a certain "crease" that Adam's eyes fixed on. Another tingle, but one deep in his body – a heat that increased as he let his eyes travel upwards across the snugness of her shirt which revealed the soft curves beneath the fabric. Her lips were relaxed and full; her eyelashes soft and dark across her skin.

Making himself look away from her – not an easy task – Adam looked at the letter he had hidden. He read the return address: Dr. Robert Sternberg was the name on it. Adam was curious but assumed that this was a colleague.

Kneeling beside her, Adam touched her arm. She stirred slightly. Lightly pulling an errant curl, Adam said softly, "Gunga Din?"

Sam woke up slowly. She stretched like a cat and opened her eyes – seeing hazel eyes staring at her. "When are you gonna stop calling me that silly name," she teased gently as she pulled his hair in retaliation. Suddenly, Adam felt that his jeans were too tight, and he shifted positions.

"You dropped a letter inside," Adam said, trying to distance his mind from where it had been traveling. "I thought it might be important." He didn't bother to say he had read the return address, and he didn't ask who this "Dr. Sternberg" was.

Sam took the letter from him and sat up. Her demeanor changed. "It's just another doctor. Probably wanting to know when I'm coming back."

Adam knew she was lying but didn't know why. He convinced himself to stay out of her business. Looking at the ground, he saw the large pad of paper, filled with writing from top to bottom.

"Is this about me?" he asked.

"Uh-huh," came the answer. "I told you I was documenting everything that's happened with you so far. It's something that doctors do now."

Adam wanted to read what was written but kept his mouth shut. Instead, he just said, "Oh." Then he looked toward the horses, still standing at the hitching post. "Do you want to ride some more today?"

Sam rolled her eyes. "I don't think my body can stand any more riding. Can we do that tomorrow instead?"

Adam was disappointed – he wanted to spend some more time with her alone – but he graciously accepted her answer.

"Then I'll take them into the barn and give them a good brushing."

Abruptly he rose and walked toward the horses. Sam's eyes followed him, noting the easy grace in his walk. She took a deep breath and then opened the letter that Adam had brought her, the words evoking mixed emotions. Putting the letter back into its envelope, she began writing a letter of her own.


	5. Chapter 5

For two days, Adam could remember nothing. Oh, he had fleeting glimpses of a person or a thing that came and went in his mind's eye, but nothing like he had been experiencing before. He and Sam went riding each day, and a trail or two would seem familiar but offered nothing as to _why_ it was familiar. A trip to town for supplies only frustrated him – people's faces seemed familiar but he couldn't remember any names. He didn't remember Sheriff Roy Coffee, but he had the feeling that he should have. The same thing with the owner of the General Store and the bank president. He didn't remember "Cosmo" in what Hoss had told Sam was Adam's favorite saloon. The chess set and the cribbage board that Ben had set out weren't unfamiliar, but Adam didn't remember how the games were played.

His laughter ceasing, Adam became withdrawn again, resorting to re-reading a book he knew was familiar. He stayed in his room, gloomy and resentful, coming downstairs only for meals. And that was due to Sam's prodding and pushing.

Sam discussed this problem with Ben, Hoss, Joe and even Hop Sing.

"He's hit a brick wall in his memory," explained Sam. "It happens more frequently than one would imagine. He was so very excited at first and now he's frustrated and a little angry that his mind is withholding information. He wants so desperately to remember Hoss and Joe, and he just can't. You are the people who matter most to him but he can't make the relationship 'fit'."

Ben puffed on his pipe. And he asked the question that nobody had dared to ask. "Will he ever get his memory back? Completely?"

Sam thought a minute before she spoke the words nobody wanted to hear. "I think you ought to consider the possibility that there may only be a few break-throughs. It's possible that his memory may not fully return. Having said that, you can't give up. It may take only one or two incidents to open those closed doors. Be patient."

And she was right. And it all started on Sunday when the family attended church.

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"Well!" said Sam as he gave each man an appreciative glance. "There's nothing more handsome than an entire family dressed for church. Coats and string ties, crisp clean shirts. Freshly shaven. This is a real treat!"

Joe grinned. "Well, ma'am, you look absolutely beautiful. What more could four men ask for than to escort such a fine-lookin' woman to town!"

Ben and Hoss laughed. Adam gave a grudging smile and, catching Sam's eye, he deliberately let his eyes travel up and down her body. Very slowly. Stopping at key points along the way. He got the response he hoped for – Sam blushed.

"Very pretty," was all he said, but his eyes spoke volumes.

Sam had been subtle when she had looked Adam over. He was too busy being difficult to get along with to notice Sam's perusal. His dark hair, his black string tie, his crisp white shirt and dark pin-striped pants, his black hat and gold jacket made him look like every woman's dream. Wondering vaguely why he wasn't married yet, Sam allowed her mind to wander. And she had blushed at the thoughts that ran through her head.

Only Adam chose to ride horseback into Virginia City. Everybody else piled into the surrey, with Sam giggling as Hoss settled himself in and the surrey tipped to his side slightly.

Townsfolk were gathered in front of the church as Sam and the Cartwright family arrived and were greeted. Everybody by now had heard of Doctor Sam Nielsen and why she had come to the Ponderosa. Adam was well-liked; he had no idea how many people prayed for his speedy recovery. He shook hands with folks who had familiar faces, but he was distracted. It was the sound of the organ playing softly in the background. Somehow, the music touched him deeply. He pinched the bridge of his nose, deep in thought.

Inside the church, the music was louder. Adam began to hum softly, feeling his body relax. But it was the singing of the hymns that brought a flurry of flashes so quickly that he couldn't hold onto them. No matter. He was happy just singing.

Only _Sam_ noticed that Adam never looked at the words to the songs in the hymn book. Only _she_ had noticed when he had pinched the bridge of his nose. As she listened to his perfectly-pitched, perfectly-tuned baritone voice, she was swept away with hope. And a much deeper feeling…

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The church service being over, once again the townsfolk gathered outside to talk. Sam and the Cartwrights were involved in pleasant conversation with Doc Martin when Sam realized that Adam wasn't anywhere around. Puzzled, Sam looked around just in time to see the church organist, Mrs. Elvin, walking down the church steps with Adam. And in Adam's arms was Mrs. Elvin's two-week old baby! Adam looked completely at ease as he and Mrs. Elvin walked up to Ben.

"Pa, look here," Adam began. "He reminds me so much of Hoss when Hoss was a baby."

Stunned at what Adam had just said, Ben peered at the newest Elvin child. Indeed, the infant had big blue eyes that seemed to miss nothing – very reminiscent of Hoss's baby eyes, alert and aware.

Adam continued. "Joe was much smaller when he was born. But I remember Marie letting me hold him a lot while she tended to other things."

At this moment, the infant in Adam's arms began to cry but, instead of handing the child over to his mother, Adam began to hum a melody that Ben had almost forgotten.

"Adam, Hoss's mother used to sing to you when you couldn't go to sleep. That's the melody to her lullaby!"

Very quietly, Sam spoke to Adam. "Hum the melody some more, Adam. The words are not far behind."

Bouncing the baby gently, Adam's eyes began taking on a faraway look. The words came haltingly at first and then more quickly. But they weren't in English. Adam looked confused.

Ben's eyes welled up for just a moment. "Inger sang that lullaby in Swedish. I never could learn the words, but apparently you remember them." Then, hoping to swing the doors of Adam's memory wider, Ben added. "Marie used to sing to you and your brothers. Do you remember her favorite song?"

Adam rubbed the infant's tiny hand and felt the fingers wrap around his own finger. _c_ _lick_. With little hesitation, Adam began singing softly to the baby. Another song that touched Ben's heart. Adam was singing in French, just the way Marie used to.

The infant had stopped crying and seemed quite calm. Mrs. Elvin smiled as Adam handed the child into her waiting arms.

"I remember, Pa," Adam said, a hoarseness in his voice. He looked around and saw children playing marbles. _c_ _lick_. One little boy was rolling a hoop with a stick. _c_ _lick_. Adam remembered playing those games with his brothers. Looking around at the buildings, Adam's eyes fell on the one-room school house. _c_ _lick_. And on other buildings. _c_ _lick..._ _c_ _lick..._ _c_ _lick..._ People's faces now had names, and Adam remembered who they were and what they did.

Sam looked at Adam's face and realized he was being overwhelmed with memories. Quietly, she suggested to Ben that they go back to the Ponderosa before Adam became overloaded too soon. Ben took Sam's wise advice and soon the family was on its way home. But this time, Adam rode in front of the surrey rather than behind it. He rode easy in the saddle, back straight and shoulders squared. Confident again.

"Does he really remember us?" Hoss asked. "Jist like that – all of a sudden?"

Ben answered, "It would appear so. But I don't know what triggered it." He turned to look at Sam.

Smiling broadly, Sam answered. "Nobody knows how or why things like this happen. But they do. And right now we don't know if Adam has long-term memory recovery or if short-term memory recovery is included. Don't push him. He's very excited now. Let him tell you what he knows."

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Adam's exuberance went on and on through lunch. The subdued Adam was gone – replaced now by a flurry of talking about things he remembered. Hop Sing even pulled up a chair to listen. There was the memory of Inger's death. Hoss's real name. Marie's death. What the original house had looked like before a fire burned it down. The people who had helped rebuild it. The names of friends, living and dead. Anecdotes about each member of the family – including Hop Sing. Memories of past Spring round-ups. Being thrown and trampled by the mustang. Each memory seemed to spawn another and another.

Finally, Sam spoke rather firmly to Adam. "You need to rest your mind temporarily. Why don't you find something quiet to do for just a while?"

"I'm afraid to stop, Gunga Din," came the answer. "I'm afraid my memory will disappear again."

Shaking her head, Sam spoke the truth. "Nothing will take away what's already come back. You'll remember more and more as the days go by. I promise."

Touching Sam's arm gently, Adam excused himself. "I think I'll go for a ride. That's the most relaxing thing I can do right now."

And it was. The familiar creaking of the saddle, the feel of Sport's gait, familiar trails to be followed – all allowed Adam the comfort that he needed.

And while he was gone, Hoss and Joe's jubilation at finally being remembered led to whoops and hollers. Hop Sing raved first in Chinese and then in English. Ben's booming laughter echoed throughout the house. Sam watched happily and then fetched her pencil and paper, went outside and began to write. Her job would soon be done here, but she wanted to document the events of the day before she forgot anything. But her heart told her that Adam was a man she would always remember.

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While standing in a copse of trees, rubbing Sport's neck, Adam listened to the wind humming a tune, listened to the songs of the birds, heard the babbling of a nearby stream. He thought about the music from the church's organ. He thought about the guitar in his bedroom. Turning Sport in the direction of home, his mind was busy. He pinched the bridge of his nose. A tiny spark of a thought flashed through his mind, and he was anxious to try something.

Unseen by anyone – Hoss and Joe were in the barn; Ben was snoozing in his chair; Sam was also fast asleep outside in her usual place in the sunshine – Adam walked silently up to his room. There was something familiar now about the guitar which had been placed in a corner. Picking it up gently, Adam balanced it on his leg, allowing his left hand to curl around the neck of the instrument, his right hand over the strings on the body of the guitar. He waited. At first, nothing happened. But slowly, his left fingers found the positions he had hoped for, and he began to strum softly with the fingers of his right hand. The longer he strummed, the faster his fingers changed chords. And he remembered the names of each chord – A, C, G, F, D… Then minor chords – A minor, E minor, D minor… And the diminished chords – all of them. The easy ones and the hard ones. Soon his fingers were flying and he was playing arpeggio melodies. Words of songs came back to him. He was at peace.

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Sam decided to take an early bath and, with the help of Hop Sing, managed to fill the tub with hot water until it was just the right temperature. Undressing quickly, she grabbed her lavender soap and stepped into the slightly-steaming water. With a happy sigh, she submerged her entire body until she needed to breathe, and then she leaned back and began scrubbing gently with the soap and washcloth. The lavender scent was so relaxing, and she enjoyed the simple pleasures of playing with the soap bubbles.

There was a light knock on her door. "I'm taking a bath. Who's there?"

A muffled voice. "Adam. I have something to tell you."

"I'll be out in a few minutes, Adam," she answered.

Much to her surprise, the door opened and Adam walked in.

"Adam! I'm taking a bath, for God's sake!"

"I see that," he answered with a devilish grin. "But I wanted to tell you something."

"I don't care! Now get out of here!"

"I remembered that I can play the guitar," he grinned. Whereupon he pulled the guitar from behind his back, leaned against the doorjamb and began playing and singing a rousing chorus of "Cindy."

The racket from Sam's hollering and the sounds of Adam's singing and guitar-playing woke Ben up. He took in the situation immediately, sprang from his chair, went through Sam's open doorway and grabbed Adam by the arm.

"Ben Cartwright! You've raised a pervert!" Sam yelled.

At just that moment, Hoss and Joe were coming through the front door. Hearing the commotion, they headed quickly to Sam's room and peered in as Ben was half dragging Adam – with his guitar – from the room. Sam was hollering at Adam, Ben was shouting at Adam, and Hoss was trying to ask what was going on. Joe suggested that there might be a critter of some kind in the bathtub. Hop Sing appeared, saw what was going on, and then scurried back into the kitchen, mumbling Chinese the whole way.

Hoss, an astute judge of the obvious, said evenly. "Adam, you cain't go in there. Sam's nekkid!"

Sam exploded. "Of course I'm naked! I'm trying to take a bath! In exasperation, she put the washcloth over her face and shouted, "Will somebody please have the decency to shut the door?"

Ben was the one who finally closed the door. It was a good thing, because it muffled the sounds of Sam's cursing like a sailor.

"Adam! What were you thinking?" Ben demanded.

"Yeah," interjected Joe who hadn't been able to see much and was disappointed. "Pa taught us better manners."

"Oh, Lordy," muttered Hoss. Sam was still swearing.

Adam looked completely unruffled. "I remembered how to play the guitar. And I remembered a whole bunch of songs. Just thought I'd share the news."

"While Sam is taking a bath?" Ben asked, trying his best not to laugh.

"I felt like singing," Adam grinned. "Isn't it wonderful how much I remembered?"

"I need to sit down," Ben said, still holding Adam by the arm and dragging him away from Sam's room.

"I think Sam's awful mad," said Hoss. "I'm gonna go back outside."

"Good idea, Hoss. I'm going with you," Joe added and then fled out the door with Hoss.

"I'm extremely happy that you discovered your guitar," Ben said evenly, trying to look stern. It was difficult. "Why don't you play something soothing. Now seems like a good time."

From behind Sam's door came the sound of much stomping around, punctuated by words like "demented" and "perverted" and "ill-mannered."

Still grinning, Adam strummed his guitar, choosing melodies that were soft and gentle. He didn't sing. His thoughts were on what he had seen. Bare shoulders. Bare knees. And the swell of the tops of Sam's breasts. Heat ran through him and the grin disappeared from his face.

Ben lit his pipe and shook his head. Hoss and Joe returned. Hop Sing banged pots in the kitchen.

Fully dressed now, Sam's door opened. "Adam, would you please come here? I'd like to speak with you."

Gently putting his guitar down, Adam walked into Sam's room. The door shut. Muted voices were heard.

"What d' ya reck'n she's sayin'?" Hoss asked.

Joe shrugged. "Shh. I'm trying to listen."

Before Ben could say anything, there was a loud crash, followed by a watery thump. And then Sam appeared in the open doorway, her dress wet in a few places. She seemed calm.

"Ben, I broke the water pitcher. I'll pay for it, of course." With that, she flounced off into the kitchen to speak to Hop Sing. In Chinese.

When Adam didn't emerge from Sam's room, Joe sprinted toward the open door. Hoss and Ben were right behind him. They found Adam, sitting in the bathtub, droplets of water falling from his hair. There was water on the floor, and there were pieces of the water pitcher strewn about. Adam hoisted himself out of the tub, shrugged his shoulders, and opined, "I thought that the first rule of the Hippocratic Oath was 'Do No Harm'."


	6. Chapter 6

The only mention of the "bathtub incident" during the evening meal was when Hop Sing looked directly at Adam and said something in Chinese. Sam's lips twitched as she tried her best to keep from smiling.

"Translate that for me, will you?" Adam asked, looking at Sam's wrinkling nose.

"Basically, Hop Sing said that you did a bad thing," Sam answered, as she concentrated on cutting her pork roast.

"Basically," Adam repeated. "Anything else I should know?"

"Nope."

Joe snickered. Hoss ducked his head. Ben smothered a grin. And the conversation turned to the joy of Adam's memory coming back. Sam was quiet as she listened, absorbing the family dynamics. The Cartwrights were a most unusual family and she was gratified to feel the love and the happiness that surrounded her. She was happy to be a part of this family…

After the meal, Adam picked up his guitar and sang a few songs that he remembered from the "wagon train" days – "Sweet Betsy from Pike," "Home on the Range," and "Green Grow the Lilacs." These were songs that Ben, Hoss and Joe could sing along with.

Hoss's innocent request for "Early One Morning" brought back yet another of Adam's memories. After beginning the song, Adam stopped and stared at his brothers.

"You two got me into a heap of trouble!" he said with mock anger. "Hank could've killed me, and Miss Abigail wanted to _marry_ me!"

Joe and Hoss dissolved into fits of laughter. "You're just irresistible to women, big brother!" they said in unison.

Adam looked at Ben, who was chuckling. Sam looked confused. So Adam, Hoss, and Little Joe explained to Sam the course of events about "Miss Abigail." When they reached the part where Miss Abigail discovered that it was Adam, not Hank, who was doing the singing, Sam began to laugh and couldn't stop. Tears rolled down her face until Ben, ever the gentleman, handed her a handkerchief. The story was one of the funniest ones she had ever heard.

Adam continued to sing, strumming his guitar expertly, and the songs that came to mind were soft songs, love songs. Often he glanced at Sam as he sang, a fact that didn't go unnoticed by his family. The hour grew late. Adam realized that only he and Sam were left. Adam put his guitar down.

"What are you thinking?" he asked Sam. She had a softness about her, her long hair falling gently to her shoulders, her eyes looking into his – looking through him.

"You're a very complex man, Adam Cartwright. You're an intellectual, you're quite talented – your voice is amazing, and your ability to play the guitar is impressive. You can laugh at yourself. You're a gentleman. I'm trying to figure out why you're not married with a family of your own."

Shrugging, Adam answered. "I've come close a few times. Things just didn't work out."

With a faint blush, Sam had a question. "How much did you see today? While I was in the bathtub."

Adam's honest response. "Enough to pique my interest. Not nearly enough to satisfy it."

Sam could feel a tingle from the top of her head to the bottoms of her feet. Slowly she rose, walked over to Adam and touched his cheek gently. "It's been a long day. I'm ready to go to sleep." Turning quickly, she headed toward her bedroom.

As she reached the door, she heard Adam call to her, a softness in his voice. "Sam? Sleep well."

It was the first time he had spoken her name.

She closed the door behind her gently, leaving Adam to feel the heat where her hand had touched his cheek…

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Adam and Hoss rode into Virginia City the next morning to pick up supplies and mail. As Hoss was loading the wagon, Adam stopped to investigate the letters. There was one for Sam from Dr. Montrose and there were two for Sam from Dr. Robert Sternberg. Adam wrestled with himself – he wanted to open one from this Dr. Sternberg, and his thumb actually slipped slightly under the sealed flap. Finally, he talked himself out of trying to read Sam's mail. It had been a hard decision though. Sam had said that Dr. Sternberg was a colleague. The letters were none of his business. Perhaps he should just ask Sam outright. Perhaps not.

In the meantime, he helped Hoss load supplies. Conversation with people he remembered was a helpful distraction. But on the way back to the Ponderosa, Adam asked Hoss in an off-handed manner if he knew anything about Dr. Sternberg.

Thinking, Hoss answered in the negative. "Never heard of him." Adam quickly changed the subject to that of the upcoming Spring round-up. But the letters were on his mind.

Arriving at the ranch, Hoss and Adam unloaded the supplies, then Adam took the mail into the house. Ben was sitting at his desk, and Adam handed over all but three letters. Sam, wearing jeans and nothing on her feet, was sitting cross-legged in a chair, writing on her pad of paper.

"You've got mail," Adam said casually.

Extending her hand and smiling her thanks, Sam looked at the letters. Adam had deliberately put the envelope from Dr. Montrose on top, and Sam smiled as she looked at the return address. Opening the letter, she smiled again.

"Dr. Montrose always wants to make sure that I'm taking copious notes. And I am. He's a stickler for every detail."

The next two envelopes evoked a strange look on her face. She looked up at Adam briefly, tucked the letters under one knee, and went back to her writing.

Adam wanted to ask questions but felt that this was not the time. But, as he walked across the room – pretending to look at the gun cabinet – he noticed that Sam had stopped writing and had gone to her room. She obviously wanted to read in privacy. Why?

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Several minutes later, Sam emerged from her room, boots on her feet. "I feel like taking a ride," she said as she headed out the door.

Adam followed along behind her. "It's a beautiful day. Mind if I ride with you?"

Sam hesitated, then replied. "Your company is always welcome, Adam."

Adam wondered why Sam sounded so formal. But he walked into the barn with her and watched as she saddled the roan horse she rode instead of Old Betsy. Adam never knew that Sam knew how to ride – he just assumed that she was a quick learner. Sam would always keep that fact a secret.

"Where to today?" Sam asked as she settled in her saddle.

"Someplace we've never been before," came the answer. "I think you'll like it."

And off they went. It was a fairly long ride, and the two talked and laughed as they rode. It was obvious that they enjoyed each other's company. And then they reached an enormous clearing that had a magnificent view of the mountains in the background. There was a clear creek babbling along its merry way.

"This is it," Adam said, dismounting. "Let's water the horses and stop for a while."

Grabbing Sam around the waist, Adam half-dragged her off her horse. He held her suspended in his strong arms and then let her slide down his body until her feet touched the ground. She smelled of lavender soap, and he thought about how she looked in the bathtub. He brushed her lips lightly with his own and was surprised at himself. He was encouraged by the fact that she didn't pull away from him.

"What was that for?" she asked, when she could find her voice. His arms were still around her, and she was so close to him that she could feel the beating of his heart. Or was it _her_ heart?

"Just seemed the thing to do at the time," he answered, his voice husky. And then he let her go.

While the horses drank from the stream, Adam watched as Sam looked around at the vast panorama. "What a treasure this is," she said breathlessly.

"My favorite place," Adam answered. "Pa gave this land to me. One day I'll build a house here."

With that, he sat down and plucked a long grass stem and put the end between his teeth. Sam sat down beside him, wrapping her arms around her bent legs.

"The Ponderosa has everything, Adam. Trees, flowers, creeks, Lake Tahoe, wild animals, a beautiful home. How lucky you are!"

"It's been hard work to get all this land," Adam replied. "Some things are worth the hard work."

Sam looked at Adam, wondering if there was a double meaning to what he'd said. But she was soon distracted by the appearance of a doe and her fawn. Adam watched her eyes grow wide with excitement.

"Did you see that!" exclaimed Sam. "What beautiful creatures! And just listen to the birds"

And Adam did see the doe and the fawn. He did listen to the birds. He saw through Sam's eyes; he listened through Sam's ears. He thought of all the sights and sounds that he had taken for granted. He thought of his lost memories which had been regained. Sam had become an integral part of his life. She was teaching him the joy of living.

The pair sat in companionable silence for quite a while. An eagle flew overhead. White, fluffy clouds slowly changed shapes and eventually passed by.

Adam broke the silence. "Do all of your patients fall in love with you?"

Sam looked at him to see if he was serious. He was.

Giving a little shrug, she answered. "I don't know."

"Have you ever fallen in love with any of your patients?"

"No," came the whispered answer. "It's unprofessional. The doctor-patient relationship is a special one. Patients tell a doctor things that nobody else knows, private things, and expects those things to be held in the highest confidence. Only an idiot would take advantage of a patient's feelings." She paused. "Some patients, I've heard, think they've fallen in love with their doctor because of that special relationship that they hold. That's especially true in the field of psychiatry. Helping to heal the body is one thing, but helping to heal the mind is another. A very delicate balance must be maintained."

Silence again. But Adam could see that Sam was uncomfortable with this conversation. Slipping an arm around her shoulders, Adam drew Sam close to him. She turned her face to his and, looking into his eyes, she felt her body tremble slightly. Felt his fingers in her hair, then felt them trace her jawline.

He kissed her then, gently and slowly. His lips were warm, soft but strong. And then, as her mind was thinking "God help me," she was wrapped in his arms, his mouth stronger on hers. And she didn't want this moment to end. Her arms went around his neck, her fingers found their way into his hair, and she felt herself falling sideways and down until her body was next to his in the lush grass. They both felt the same heat, the same passion. It felt so right…

Suddenly, Adam felt Sam's body stiffen. She pulled away from him, scooted away from the reach of his arms. Her hand went to her lips and she shook her head. "I can't do this, Adam. I'm sorry. I'm. So. Sorry!"

"I'm going too fast," Adam said quickly. "Give me time. I won't push you. Give _us_ time!"

Shaking her head, Sam jumped to her feet and raced toward her horse. Scrambling into the saddle, she jerked the reins and galloped away.

Adam rose slowly. He knew that Sam could find her way back to the house; he knew that she needed time to think. Taking Sport's reins in his hand, the man swung into his saddle and proceeded in a walk that would take him back home.

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Sam wept as she unsaddled her horse in the oh-so-familiar barn. She wiped him down, made sure he had water and some sweet-feed, then hurried into the house. Ben happened to be standing close to the door and saw Sam as she entered. Her eyes were red, her cheeks were damp. And Adam wasn't with her.

"Sam? Are you all right? Is Adam all right?" Ben's voice showed great concern. He reached for her arm, but she sidled past him.

"We're both fine," was all Sam could say before she bolted for her room. She didn't come out until supper.

Eventually Adam arrived. Entering the barn, he saw Sam's unsaddled horse and knew that the woman had found her way back. Quickly, he removed Sport's saddle and strode into the house.

Ben looked up from his paperwork but said nothing.

"Is Sam here?" Adam asked.

"Yes. She's in her room."

Adam turned toward the bedroom, but Ben stopped him. "I wouldn't go in there just now, son. Sam seems…upset."

"I know." Adam looked extremely unhappy.

"If you want to talk about it, I'm here to listen," Ben said wisely.

Taking a deep breath, Adam answered. "I was too pushy, Pa. I know I should've given her more time."

Ben understood those two short sentences. "So much has happened in what seems to be a short time. Let her figure things out for herself, son, and then respect her decision. Whatever it may be."

Ben's advice was good. As always.


	7. Chapter 7

Sam was pleasant but subdued at supper. Hoss and Joe didn't notice the slight puffiness around her eyes, but Ben and Adam did. Besides, the topic of conversation didn't center around Adam and his journey of memories – there was the Spring round-up to be discussed. And Ben, in his infinite wisdom, kept the discussion going in great detail, deliberately drawing his eldest son into the conversation.

After supper, Sam curled up in a chair and concentrated on her writing. Hoss and Joe rode into town. Adam opened a book but couldn't focus his mind on its contents. He kept sneaking peeks at Sam who, every now and then, was sneaking peeks at him. Ben returned to his bookwork. The only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock.

Adam could stand this no more. Closing his book loudly, he looked at Sam. "I think we need to talk."

"Not tonight, Adam. I'm just too tired. But I agree – we do need to talk." She gave him what looked like a half-smile.

Adam walked outside and simmered. But he remembered what his father had told him: "Give her time." Trying to control his impatience, eventually he went back inside, only to find that Sam had already gone to bed. Give her time.

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Adam had tossed and turned all night but had finally fallen asleep in the wee hours of the morning. When he opened his eyes, he could tell by the sun's position that he had overslept. Dressing in a hurry, he rushed – unshaven and with shirttail flapping – downstairs and found his father and brothers just finishing breakfast.

"Where's Sam?" he asked as he approached the table and noticed there was not a plate, empty or otherwise, at her place.

Hoss finished his last bite of ham. "She went t' town. Said she had t' send a wire and do some other stuff. She sure missed a good breakfast!"

"Did she take anything with her?" Adam pressed.

"Like what?" Little Joe answered. "What's going on with you two anyway? I was hoping I was gonna hear wedding bells."

"Joseph," Ben cautioned.

"But…"

" _Joseph_! Eat your breakfast. We have a lot of things to tend to today!"

Adam opened Sam's bedroom door and looked around. Taking the liberty of opening her armoire – something he would never have done under normal circumstances – he was relieved to see her suitcases and her clothes.

"I'm going to town," he announced as he emerged from the room.

"No, you are not," Ben said firmly. "You are going to stay here and work like the rest of us. There's a lot to do before the round-up. In case you've forgotten, it starts in three days."

Adam knew better than to argue with his father. Heaving a sigh, he sat down at the table and ate what was left on the breakfast platters.

Ben looked at Adam and knew how upset he was. He longed to tell his eldest son of the conversation that he had with Sam the night before. He had been working late, checking and re-checking figures in his bookwork when Sam appeared. Adam had already gone upstairs.

"Can I talk with you, Ben? I need some advice," she had said.

"Of course, Sam." Ben rose and took her elbow gently.

And Sam opened her heart to Ben. He listened intently, spoke little and, when the conversation was over, he had told her to do what was right for _her_. Reassuring her that what they had discussed would be held in strictest confidence, Ben had kissed Sam lightly on the cheek and watched as she returned to her room.

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The house was empty when Sam returned from town. Even Hop Sing was missing. But, from listening to the conversations of the imminent round-up, Sam assumed correctly that ranch business was taking precedence.

She walked through the quiet house, looking at things that had become so familiar to her. She smiled as she remembered Ben's booming voice, chastising Little Joe. " _Joseph_! How many times do I have to tell you to get your feet off the settee!" As she looked into each room upstairs, voices whispered to her. In Adam's room, she sat down and looked around the room, looking at all the books, the pictures on the wall, the bed. Her thoughts went back to the day she had first met Adam – unshaven and withdrawn and understandably cranky. Opening his armoire, she touched his bathrobe and caught a whiff of his familiar scent. What a long way he had come since that day! And what a long way she had come since that day.

And then she went downstairs to her room, sat on the bed, and did some more thinking. She had made a decision, but would it be the right one?

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Hop Sing was the first one to arrive at the Ponderosa, and Sam hurried outside to give him a hand with the supplies. There ensued a long conversation in Chinese ending with an inscrutable look on the cook's face. He planned to prepare a special dinner for the evening meal.

Little Joe arrived next. He discovered Sam dusting the pictures on Ben's desk, a most peculiar look on her face. Putting down the feather duster, Sam spoke at length to the youngest Cartwright and then swore him to secrecy.

Hoss arrived via the kitchen. He had a sandwich in his hands, and Sam heard the familiar muttering of Hop Sing. With Little Joe standing close by, Sam repeated to Hoss what she had said to Joe. And swore him to secrecy.

Ben arrived as the sun was just beginning to sink low on the horizon. He looked weary but he could tell by looking at Sam that there was a personal conversation that needed to be heard. He listened intently to what Sam had to say. And he, too, was sworn to secrecy.

The only man missing was Adam. And Adam was the man Sam wanted to talk to the most…

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Adam had been thinking about Sam the whole day. He tended to the work he needed to do, spoke with the people he needed to speak with, and even sat – though slightly impatiently – as Maggie Ferguson plopped some blueberry pie in front of him as her husband droned on about the round-up.

Adam had so many things he wanted to say to Sam – so many things that were in his heart. His father had cautioned him about being too "pushy," but Adam didn't care. Something told him that he and Sam needed to talk. Not tomorrow or the next day. Tonight!

But he was running late, and he urged Sport into a gallop through the twilight.

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Though he had almost pushed Sport to the limit, Adam discovered that he was late for supper. Ignoring Hop Sing's mutterings – in both Chinese and English – Adam washed up and hurriedly sat down at the table.

"Sorry I'm late," he apologized. "I got caught at the Ferguson ranch and couldn't get away as soon as I would've liked."

He looked at Sam's sweet smile. And he looked at the table, laden with what was left of an enormous standing-rib roast and every vegetable that Hop Sing could get out of his garden.

"Hop Sing really outdid himself tonight," Adam laughed as he reached for the dish of butter-and-parsley potatoes. "What's the occasion?"

"You'll have to ask Hop Sing," Ben answered. He had a strange look on his face as he side-stepped giving a direct answer.

Adam looked at the faces around the table. He could feel something in the air but couldn't put his finger on just what it was. Expectancy?

He hurried through his meal, barely listening to the conversation around him. He was an impatient man tonight. But he would have to wait to talk to Sam just a little longer, because out came a grinning Hop Sing with a dessert he had managed to flambé perfectly.

Sam clapped her hands in delight and laughed out loud, her freckled nose wrinkling.

"Hop Sing! It's perfect!" Sam chortled.

The Chinese cook's face spread into a happy grin. "This velly special for Missie Doctor Sam!"

Hoss and Joe looked suspiciously at the dessert. "What is it?" they asked in unison, eliciting a highly-insulted look from Hop Sing.

"It's a special dessert," laughed Sam. "You'll really like it!"

And they did.

Finally, Sam pushed back from the table. "I'm stuffed. I can't eat another bite."

Hop Sing began clearing the dishes as everybody rose to move into the living room. He froze briefly when he heard Adam say to Sam, "Come walk with me outside. It's a beautiful night."

Three pairs of Cartwright eyes watched as Adam took Sam's elbow and guided her out the door.

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As the two walked outside, Sam looked into the sky. A full moon was beginning to rise, and the first early stars had appeared.

Taking Sam's hand in his own, Adam began to speak. "Samantha, there's so much I want to tell you…"

Adam had never called her by her full name before and, for a moment, all Sam could do was look into those hazel eyes that were so dear to her. She put her finger to Adam's lips.

"Hush," she said quietly. "I've got some things I have to say first. Come sit on the bench with me and just listen."

Feeling the pounding of his heart, Adam walked to the bench, allowing Sam to be seated and then sitting far enough away from her so he could see her face clearly but close enough to smell the scent of the lavender soap that she always used.

Sam opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again.

"Just spit it out, Samantha," Adam said soothingly.

Sam tried to choose her words wisely. "Spring round-up is about to begin, and the house will be empty for a few weeks. It's time for me to go back to San Francisco, Adam. I have work to do there; I can't ask others to do what I should be doing. I've stayed here way too long. Your memory came back so quickly, it seems, and I kept telling myself 'just one more day'. The Ponderosa is like every woman's fantasy, and your family has treated me more like family than what I really am. They've become very special to me. You've become very special to me in a way that confuses me."

All the things that Adam had intended to say to Sam flew right out of his head. "We just need more time," he said intently. "We need to give our feelings a chance to grow. I care so much for you…"

"And I care for you, Adam," Sam answered as she stroked the stubble on his cheeks. "But I have other obligations. Personal ones."

"Dr. Robert Sternberg," Adam said gruffly. "You never bothered to tell me about him."

"No, I didn't. Nobody asked, and my personal life had nothing to do with my professional life. I was asked here in the capacity of a physician. That's all."

"I want to know about him." Adam had become tense.

"He's a good man, Adam. He works hard. We share so many common interests. He's gentle and he's kind. He loves me. And he trusts me. And I feel guilty that I've betrayed that trust."

Adam growled. "So those kisses were just for fun? They meant the world to me but were you just teasing me? That's not fair."

Sam's eyes glistened. "Adam, those kisses meant more to me than you'll ever know. I wasn't playing a schoolgirl's game with you. It was for real. And you're right, it wasn't fair. For so many days, I've lost sight of what should've been a doctor-patient relationship. I saw you as a man – a very attractive, intelligent, caring man. I felt myself being swept away and should have left the Ponderosa before now."

Silence fell between them. Then Adam spoke. "Do you love him?"

Sam chewed on the inside of her cheek. "I thought I did. I was sure that I did. But with you…" She stopped. "I've been trying to second-guess my feelings. I'm just very confused."

"Stay here. I won't go on the round-up. Pa will understand. Give 'us' a chance." Adam wasn't begging. He was trying his best to give this woman an alternative solution.

"Adam, you don't know me at all," Sam said slowly. "You don't know what things I like, what things I don't like. What my hopes and dreams are. You don't even know what my favorite color is, or what my favorite food is. I know everything about you, but you know very little about me."

Adam gave a wry smile. "I know that you don't like riding Old Betsy. And I know you like lavender soap. And I know you can be deadly with a water pitcher."

Sam had to laugh in spite of herself. "And I know that you're a Peeping Tom!"

Silence again. Crickets chirped and somewhere there was the hoot of an owl.

"You've made up your mind then," Adam said.

"Yes."

"When do you plan to leave?"

"Tonight on the late stage. Ben said he would drive me into town."

"I want to take you there."

Shaking her head, Sam looked again into Adam's eyes, saw the pain, confusion and hurt there. "No, Adam. Selfishly on my part, that would just be too hard."

Adam played with a lock of Sam's hair. "Will you come back? If things don't work out with you and…him?"

"I don't know," Sam answered slowly. "I still have my practice there. I don't think Virginia City has a need for what I do."

"You brought my memories back."

"No. You brought your own memories back. You did all the hard work. I just sat around and tried to lead you to familiar things. We were lucky that it worked out."

"I still want to take you into Virginia City," Adam said adamantly.

Just as adamantly, Sam said, "No."

Adam stood up then, resigned to her decision. Sam stood up too. And very quickly, she threw her arms around Adam's neck and kissed him quickly on his cupid's-bow mouth. With skirts flying, she ran into the house, leaving Adam to stand outside and to try to understand a million things at once.

With glistening eyes, Sam looked at Ben. "I have some last-minute packing to do. It won't take me long."

Ben nodded, noticing that Adam hadn't come inside. Hoss and Joe looked at each other sadly. Nothing was said.

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Hoss put Sam's luggage in the buggy. Joe kicked a pebble, raising a small cloud of dust. Adam stood behind his brothers, broad shoulders sagging slightly. Behind him was an unhappy Hop Sing.

"I'm not going to say 'goodbye' to any of you," stated Sam. "That's too final. And I don't want you to say it to me either. When you least expect it, you might find me on your doorstep."

"That would be quite a pleasure," said Ben, his voice deeper than usual.

Sam turned to Hoss and kissed him on his cheek. "What a wonderful man you are. A big man with an even bigger heart. I'm proud to know a man like you."

"Have a safe trip, Sam," was all the big man could say.

Kissing Little Joe on the cheek, Sam smiled. "Joe, one of these days you're gonna be chasing a girl and she'll stop and let you catch her. Then what will you do?"

Little Joe flashed his well-known smile. "I'll wire you for help!" Then, "Take care of yourself."

Hop Sing came next. Sam kissed him on his cheek and spoke briefly to him in Chinese. The cook smiled, nodded, and then handed her a small brown bag. "Food to keep Missie Doctor Sam from hunger on trip."

Adam saw tears in Sam's eyes when she turned to him. Holding both his hands in her own, she struggled to speak. "Thank you for everything, Adam. You've got your memories, and you've given me some precious ones of my own. _Vaya con Dios_. Go with God."

Adam nodded. It was all he could manage to do.

Ben helped Sam into the buggy and clucked to the horse. Hop Sing had disappeared; Hoss and Little Joe had gone into the house, leaving Adam to his thoughts. He kept hoping that the buggy would turn around but, when it didn't, he went into the house and upstairs to his room. He looked out the window, the lump in his throat seeming to grow so large that surely it would burst.

Turning around, something caught his eye. And on his bed he found a book. It was, of course, Rudyard Kipling's "Gunga Din." Right next to it was an object wrapped in tissue paper. Unwrapped, it revealed its contents – a bar of lavender soap.

In spite of himself, Adam smiled. Maybe there was hope after all.


End file.
